Satisfaction
by ArtificialAorta
Summary: Clint just wants his satisfaction...


**Rating**: Teen for suggestiveness  
**Summary**: Clint just wants his satisfaction.  
**Pairings**: Pre Clint Barton/ Darcy Lewis, Clint Barton/ Television, Natasha Romanov/ teasing Clint until he wants to disappear from embarrassment  
**A/N**: I reiterate this- I can't stop writing. Another short story that I've wanted to write for a while but didn't feel the compulsion to write till now. Also, got the lip reading idea from another fic where Clint is practising lip reading by watching the muppets. For the life of me I can't remember who wrote it but a bit of credit to them! Of course I had to sully the innocence.  
**A/N2**: I dedicate this to the boys in my middle school woodshop class who put Satisfaction by Benny Benassi as ringtones on their mobiles. And played it every time I picked up a tool. Gotta love 12 year old boys, right?

* * *

Life as an Avenger was hard. The hours were erratic, the work draining and more often than not, Clint was skipping along the line of death. Also, the sudden fame thing sucked hairy balls. But all these factors included, Clint still wouldn't trade it for any other life. Over the years Clint had become very familiar with the rule of life taken up by many agents, SHIELD or otherwise. It was work hard, party harder. There was a time where Clint had lived by it to perfection. Nowadays though, he'd rather drink a beer, relax and watch some TV. And Stark Tower had quite a bit of TV and beer to offer. So that's where Clint was relaxing on his day off.

The sheer amount of channels that the Avengers were able to surf was staggering. There were channels that Clint had never realised existed or needed to, including a good hundred or so of foreign ones. All of them were piped through to the entertainment room and their personal TVs. After sleeping in till one, Clint had wandered out in sweatpants and an old shirt to grab a bag of chips and a beer then settle down to practice some lip reading. After half an hour of a reality show marathon where Clint just got angry at the whole world, he decided to flip through the channels once more. No one had come out to join him or see what his loud complaints had been about so Clint had to assume they were out doing their own things. It was actually relatively normal after long missions for Clint to be the only one wandering around in his own filth but he took it with stride.

He had been flipping for a while when he stopped at a European music channel. The music was shit but the video was...stimulating. A bunch of well endowed women, greased up and handling tools. Clint could get behind that. He was all for women in the workforce.

It didn't take long for him to become mesmerised by the video (god bless who ever Benny Benassi was). A woman handling a belt sander distracted Clint completely from the one suddenly standing right behind him.

"Anything good on?" An innocent voice asked, making Clint jump up from the couch. He turned around to find Darcy Lewis leaning against the back of the couch, looking up at Clint with challenging mischief.

"Ahem, uh, just-"

"I don't think those are real, what do you think?" Darcy asked suddenly, nodding towards the pretty stacked woman on the screen. Feeling his skin prickle badly in embarrassment, Clint chided himself. He was a guy, he liked oiled up women in skimpy outfits and it was his day off. There was nothing wrong with this picture. Sitting back down and picking up his bag of chips, Clint relaxed once more.

"Does it matter?"

"As a naturally buxom lady, I think it's a little like cheating sometimes," shrugged Darcy and Clint couldn't stop his automatic response of looking towards Darcy's chest. Logically, he had sneaked a peak many times and he knew that she was completely covered up right now but he was like a perverted Pavlovian dog. "Not fair for all of us who have suffered ridcule for our gifts from God."

"Yeah, well..." Clint mumbled, not really sure of where to go conversationally. Instead, he went back to the TV, albeit a little guiltily. Back in New Mexico, he had gotten close to asking Darcy on a date. He'd been reassigned before he did though and when they started hanging out again in New York...neither one had tried to make another move. Truth be told, Clint was a little disappointed. Darcy was fun and cute. Though right now...

Movement next to Clint caught his attention and he looked over to watch Darcy climb onto the couch next to him and take a few chips from the bag he was holding. The silence continued until Darcy said in passing, "so watching softcore porn in the public fun room usually get you off?"

"What?" sputtered Clint. Natasha, who appeared from thin air, answered for him.

"Normally. He's only trying to practice his lip reading skills though so maybe we should be gentle," said Natasha, walking over and sitting on Clint's other side.

"I don't think you can read _those_ particular lips," Darcy suggested lewdly.

"Well it's not _that_ head he wants to read them with," Natasha gestured to Clint's top half, not skipping a beat. Clint felt his face and neck turn red and wished the couch would just swallow him into an alternate universe.

"Ha! Solid!" cheered Darcy, raising her hand up for a high five that Natasha returned above Clint's head.

"You know, women complain about guys but you're worse than we are sometimes," protested Clint, hoping they would just leave him alone to spend his day off in peace. That was not going to happen apparently. At that moment, Jane wandered in.

"Oh, there you guys- ew! Gross!" squealed Jane when she saw what was playing on the TV.

"My dearest, what sets you on edge? Ah. Why have those maidens misplaced their clothing? It is Midgardian custom to take off one's garments before masonry work?" Thor asked, following in right after Jane.

"Only when you're erecting really _big_ things," said Darcy. If Clint wasn't so mortified, he would have had to fight the urge to kiss her dirty smirk. Next to him, Natasha was snickering, shoulders shaking from the effort to keep silent. And to make Clint's day off just that much more perfect, Steve Rogers was the last to walk into the room. It took him a moment to take in everything that was happening but his gaze fell to the TV screen and his brow furrowed.

"Is that really allowed on TV?"

"No but I'm a big disgusting pervert so I found it!" Clint shouted, throwing his hands up in the air and hopping over the back of the couch so he could storm out. He made it a few steps before noticing his beer and chips weren't with him. With a growl, he walked back to grab the beer and snatch the bag out of Darcy's hands.

"Hey-" Darcy started to complain but broke down into giggles with Natasha. The other guests in the room were just confused at the outbursts. As Clint neared the door to the hall, he decided that he might as well own up to his depraved tendencies.

"Hey Lewis, feel free to join me in my room. Bring some nails and I might show you a few new tricks," offered Clint, pleased when Darcy stopped laughing to turn a light shade of pink. It wasn't his best comeon ever but it worked. Long as Clint got the last laugh, people could take the piss out of him as much as they wanted. Especially if they were cute, mischievous lab assistants. Hopefully his day off would be more exciting than vegetating in front of a TV screen.

* * *

**End Notes**: When I was 12, I moved overseas to Europe and this was a popular video at the time. I don't know how popular or if it was shown in the US to be honest. But, if you don't know it, just know it's literally what I described. Skimpily dressed women, oiled up and using power tools to the beat of club music. Also, my only real thought of the video is still 'using those tools in those small outfits is a safety hazard'.


End file.
